Supernatural the 13th
by twilightHDfan
Summary: Chuck starts writing a script for a new Friday the 13th film. It all seems to be going well, until Dean calls. ONE-SHOT


**A/N **- _Written for spn_bitesized over on DW (which I'm addicted too, I just can't resist). The prompt was: Chuck starts writing a script for a new Friday the 13th film. I just couldn't resist. First part is a script but goes on to the actual story.  
_

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EXT. CLEARING IN THE WOODS – NIGHT

Jessie screams, jumping as Tom and Clay run into the clearing:

JESSIE

He killed them. He killed them all!

Tom and Clay share a look, the two of them looking confused, before looking back at the girl.

TOM

Dude, where the hell are we?

CLAY

Well … I … weren't we outside Bobby's?

He pauses:

CLAY

In the middle of the day?

Jessie looks between the two men, tears welling in her eyes:

JESSIE

I thought you said that being a camp leader would be fun? Now he's killed them all and taken Joey.

Tom and Clay share another look, Tom shrugging and widening his eyes, indicating with his head that his brother should go and speak with the girl. Clay rolls his eyes, before moving towards the girl:

CLAY

Who killed them?

A stray tear runs down Jessie's face, before she brushes it away:

JESSIE

Jason

TOM AND CLAY together:

Jason?

JESSIE

Yes, we have to get out of here.

CLAY

Dean

...

Stopping suddenly, Chuck looked up at the screen.

"That's not right," he muttered to himself, shaking his head, deleting Dean's name and typing Tom.

Only to type Dean again.

"Oh," he said, moving back from the computer. "Oh, no, no, no."

He couldn't help but jump when the phone rang, swallowing hard.

"No," he said again, ignoring the ringing, pointing at his computer. "No, I didn't dream this. This is just a script. This isn't real."

"Hi! This is Becky and Chuck. We can't come to the phone right now. So please leave a message. And if this is Sam. Hi, Sam!"

"And that will be some … telemarketer," he continued, standing up and moving over to the answering machine, ignoring the part of him that always wondered if Becky would ever get over her little crush of the youngest, or rather middle now that he thought about it, Winchester.

"Chuck."

"Oh, God," Chuck whimpered, as Dean's angry tones carried through the machine, looking up at the ceiling. "Why? Why would you … that's crazy and completely unfair!"

"Whatever the hell you're writing, whatever is going through your head, stop, now!" Dean continued.

Moving over to the bench, Chuck picked the phone up.

"Dean?" he asked.

"Yes," Dean answered, and Chuck could hear the anger in his voice.

"Are you alright?" Chuck asked, rubbing his sweaty hands on his jeans, hoping that he was completely wrong.

"Oh, you know, we're fine," Dean replied, and Chuck could picture the angry look on his face. "Except for the crazy serial killer chasing after us with a hockey mask on, who is apparently called Jason, and killed all Camp Leaders, bar me, Sammy and some hysterical scream queen called Jessie."

"I didn't dream this," Chuck said, trying to defend himself. "I was just writing a new script-"

"For Friday the thirteenth?" Dean snapped.

"Yes?" Chuck replied, wincing when he heard the swearing on the other side.

"Damn it, Chuck," Dean muttered. "Why couldn't you start writing a freakin' action movie, where the attractive older brother hooks up with Jessica Biel?"

Shrugging, Chuck moved back over to the computer, sitting down when his legs gave out.

"I'm sorry," he said, picking up the glass of whiskey he'd poured himself.

He didn't drink a lot these days, thanks to Becky, but he still liked to have a little when he wrote.

Dean sighed over the phone, and Chuck felt a part of him ease a little.

"Humans, man," Dean said.

Chuck nodded, running a hand over his face.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I know," Dean said. "We'll handle it, Chuck. Just … no more writing."

"Yeah," Chuck agreed, staring down at his phone once Dean had hung up.

**END**

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**A/N** - _As always let me know what you thought :)._


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